I, Peter
by Red Bess Rackham
Summary: How do you move on with life in a world that is nothing like the one where you belong? What if you don't belong anywhere? Peter struggles to find his place. For the WA Random Word Challenge. Nominated in the Narnia Revolution Awards!
1. Part I

**Disclaimer: **I still need to do these? Fine. I don't own Narnia. Obviously, C.S. Lewis does. I am, however, in love with Prince Caspian and Peter. And Jim Halpert, who has nothing to do with Narnia but I thought I should mention him anyway.

**A/n:** I was inspired to write something from the Narnia-verse (my first!) upon seeing _Prince Caspian_, especially something attempting to capture the way Peter was feeling at the very beginning of the movie. The Writer's Anonymous Challenge this time was to use two "failed login" words to create a story, and I received "logical" and "joy". Luckily I had an idea to use the words with my idea for a Narnia fic and here we go! So this is my WA Random Words Challenge entry. :D After the Challenge has been judged, I will likely be adding a second and third part to this story (_not_ as part of the WA Challenge).

**Warning: **Part One contains slight spoilers for the first bit of _Prince Caspian_, as well as heavy spoilers for _Lion, Witch and the Wardrobe_.

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**I, Peter - Part One**

It is impossible for me to move on.

As I settle into a creaking wooden desk at an old school in England, I know this to be true. The teacher begins droning on about normal things like arithmetic and grammar, her hair in a tight knot atop her head. Her voice is lifeless, her eyes dull because she has done this thousands of times and will it do it thousands more. Around me, the other students busily scratch away, taking notes listening to every word, trying to absorb it, take it all in. I can't bring myself to care and have long since given up trying. How can I care about such things after all that I been through?

I was normal once too, just like the other students in the room. I cared about grades, fitting in, working hard. I had a family and was blissfully unaware of anything outside my own little world. Then the War hit and my family was torn apart. My siblings and I were sent to live far away from here - someplace safe. And one rainy afternoon, our lives changed forever.

Lucy found the wardrobe and the wondrous world of Narnia beyond it. Eventually we followed and it wasn't long before we became completely caught up in the world, before we cared about Narnia and those in it. England was so far away and unimportant; I hardly gave a thought to it. I didn't want to. Like a wonderful dream, I didn't want this world to end. Even though it was never easy, though we fought full-scale battles the likes of which we could have never imagined, though we experienced things far beyond our years, I never wanted it to end.

I was crowned High King when the battle for Narnia was over. Edmund also became a King while Susan and Lucy were Queens. We ruled for years to come. We grew up, we grew so much older and wiser. We led a _nation_! Then one day we accidentally fell back through the wardrobe, we stumbled back into England, back to our old world, our old time. We were young again – children, again. We had no way of knowing if we ever would or could go back to Narnia.

For months and months I dreamed of returning to Narnia. There was nothing I wanted more and it consumed me. Life in England seemed so utterly pointless to me, a complete and total waste of time. I had decades of memories that couldn't be banished to the back of my mind, I had muscles from wielding heavy swords and armor that ached to hold one again. I had scars from battles that I had to explain away as scars from a car or bicycle accident. I couldn't stop hoping and praying desperately that one day soon I would wake up and find myself in Narnia, the place where I _belonged._

Susan, ever logical and pragmatic, did her best to put Narnia behind her. It was a chapter in her life that had closed, she'd say, and it was time to move on. I cursed her will-power to do so because I had none. She knew if it was ever right to return to Narnia it would happen, though she didn't believe it ever would. It had been an incredible adventure, a once-in-a-lifetime experience, but that was all: once in a lifetime.

"How can you just move on?" I'd snap hotly on nights when she would see the sadness and anger in my eyes at being stuck in England and tell me I needed to stop thinking about it.

"Because the more you dwell on it, the more it's going to eat you alive, Peter." She'd answer sensibly. "You can't use every minute of every day wishing for something that very well could never happen again. It was magical, it was miraculous and maybe it'll come back again. But maybe it _won't._ You have to accept that, and accept that you're here, in England and you're still just a _boy_."

I hated her logic and practicality because I knew she was right. I refused to let it go, however, and I refused to give up.

Edmund too seemed to adopt Susan's point of view of things. He carried on in school almost as if nothing had happened, as if he weren't carrying around years and years more memories and experiences than any of his peers. One night I demanded to know how he could do that, after everything we've been through.

"There's nothing I can do to change our situation." He told me simply. "I'm not going to fight it. If Aslan needs us back in Narnia, he will find a way to bring us back, and that's good enough for me."

It wasn't good enough for _me_, however.

I couldn't hang out with my old friends any longer because I could only see them as immature boys who had never, and never would, see any of the things I had seen. They would never know about Narnia, about my role in Narnia, they would never understand. I grew tired of being in their presence extremely quickly and often wondered how in the world I had become friends with them in the first place. As I grew more distant and dark, so my friends too appreciated my company less and less. They drifted away and I let them. I knew I would have the same problems if I tried to make new friends, so I didn't bother.

Neither did Susan. For all her talk of moving on and accepting things, she moved away from her former friends and seemed to have difficulty following her own advice. She ate lunches alone, often with a book in her hand as if trying to escape into them and be anywhere but here.

Lucy alone seemed to be getting on alright. Though she rarely spoke about Narnia, it was clear she thought it about it as often as I did and she truly believed we might return at any moment. She kept her friends, she kept her sunny disposition, she kept her joy for being alive and having ever seen Narnia. She kept living.

"How do you do it, Lu?" I'd ask.

She'd shrug. "I just believe. I know Aslan wouldn't forget about us and I believe he'll call on us again someday. We haven't seen the last of Narnia."

"How do you know?"

"I just do."

"But it's been almost a whole year. Why hasn't he come to get us yet?"

"He has his reasons, I'm sure. And it could be three years or ten years or five days from now. You just can never give up. Never stop believing."

"It's so hard, though, Lu."

"I know."

I had given up. Despite Lucy's faith about Aslan, I didn't believe he was going to retrieve us. We were never going to see Narnia again and I was going to be stuck in a useless existence in England when I used to be a High King in a magical world. Somehow I had to get through life in a body that was dozens of years younger than I was on the inside and I hated the very idea of it. Somehow I had to live with the mistake I'd made when I'd walked back through the wardrobe. I withdrew into myself, speaking less and less to other people. I spent hours brooding about what I'd had lost. Why did we ever go near the wardrobe? Why hadn't we stayed in Narnia forever?

Sitting in this stifling classroom with these thoughts circling my brain, watching the others students, I just feel like shouting until I am hoarse. I want to scream and throw desks. _I was a King! Don't you understand?_ No one would believe me, no one possibly _could_ understand and that very fact only makes me angrier that I am stuck here, so far from my destiny. _How could you leave me here, Aslan? Did all my work, all my life, all my blood, sweat and tears in Narnia count for nothing?_

Now, I have become so edge that the smallest thing sets me off. I get into a fight at school nearly every week, nearly every other day. I can't seem to help it. I've lost the muscles I had from all the sword training and somehow punching other school boys makes me feel better, if only for the slightest, most fleeting of moments. The only people who could possibly understand how I feel – Lucy, Edmund and Susan – seem disgusted that I have sunk to this level. They offer me the same words, which bring me no comfort.

"Get over it, Peter. It's not going to happen again. The tighter you hold on to the past, the more miserable and pathetic you're going to become." Susan angrily says as she exits the room.

Edmund sighs and shakes his head. "You've got to stop this, Peter. It's not helping anything. And I can't always intervene for you." He hands me an ice pack and then with a last look back that says I am a lost cause, he follows Susan out. I often glare at his back and bite down the words that I always say to him after he helps break up another one of my fights: _I had it sorted._

Sadness replaces the usual, ever-present joy in Lucy's eyes as she washes the blood off my hands and helps me with the ice pack. "You just need to trust Aslan will come. You can't keep hitting everyone who doesn't know about Narnia, Peter, or you'll be fighting the whole world."

I can never reply to any of them, because the next day I get into a new fight, gather new bruises and my feelings of being lost and forgotten only grow. I think about the White Witch and her frightening army, about the way she tried to take Edmund from us, about Aslan letting us go back to England and leaving us here after we helped him save Narnia. The other school boys think I am fighting them because they bumped into me, called me a name, chose not to be my partner on a group project, or made fun of the fact that I spend more time in the Principal's office than the classroom. I am hitting them because I feel angry with myself.

_I was King…_

If I ever see Narnia again, I'm not going to leave. I'm going to stay forever, continue my reign as High King and die the happiest man there ever was. I'll be back, I'll be fulfilling my destiny, I will be where I truly belong. If I ever see Narnia again, I know the anger will be replaced by joy.

Until that day, I know it will be impossible to move on.

**-end-**

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**A/n: **My repetition here of Peter thinking about how he was King is not meant to come off as a vain or arrogant sort of "_I was awesome and powerful and King!_" type thing, but a "_I looked after a entire world, grew up and now am stuck in a place that no longer has any meaning to me with a bunch of people who could never grasp the concept of what my life has been like_" type thing. Anyways, thanks for reading! And reviews are like oxygen.


	2. Part II

**A/n:** Hey everyone! This came significantly later than originally promised, my apologies. I've been really busy. But here is Part 2 and hopefully if luck is my favor, the third and final part isn't too far in the future. Thanks to everyone who's sticking with me. ;) Major thanks moony's number 1 for helping me fix this piece up.

**Warning:** The following contains very significant spoilers for the _Prince Caspian_ movie.

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**I, Peter – Part 2**

It is impossible for me to do this on my own.

I've been sitting on the same piece of smooth, cool rock for several hours now, staring up at the carving of Aslan the Lion on the cavern wall. Against my back is the stone table where once upon a time the Witch Witch thought she had defeated Aslan. There's no other noise except my gentle breathing and the soft crackle of the torchlights. I'm waiting, looking, praying for a sign. Something. _Anything_.

It wasn't supposed to be this way. Initially, coming back to Narnia was exactly what I knew it would be: pure joy. That feeling, however, didn't last like it should have. I had foolishly assumed that coming back to Narnia meant I would simply be able to pick up where I had left off. However, discovering Cair Paravel as ancient ruins, overgrown and covered in vines, dispelled those thoughts rather quickly. I wondered who the new High King was, where his palace was located, what had happened to Cair Paravel and what my role in Narnia would be now.

_Perhaps I'll be a Knight_, I mused as I unsheathed my sword. It felt so _right_ to hold the sword in my hand again.

Not much else felt right after finding Cair Paravel, however. I couldn't understand how hundreds of years had passed by in Narnia, while only _one_ had passed in England. Narnia's landscape had changed, its situation, its rulers. I clung to a small glimmer of happiness that I was _finally_ here after waiting for _so_ long and wanting so badly to be back; but fear that I no longer belonged began to creep into the back of my mind. Naturally, I pointedly ignored it.

Hundreds of years had changed the land so much that the map in my head was useless, and I looked like a fool when I presumed to know where I was going. I didn't want anyone's help because I was determined to do it on my own, to prove I knew what I was doing. This didn't do anything to diminish the ugly feeling of no longer belonging anymore. If I don't belong here, where _do_ I belong?

Yes, Narnia had definitely changed, and not for the better. Narnians were practically extinct and those who had survived were in hiding from the Telmarines. Some animals had gone wild and no longer spoke, and the trees no longer danced. It was hard to find help and trust, and even harder to earn it. Feelings of uneasiness grew inside me, and still I pushed them away, determined to belong again, to make everything right, to become what I once was in Narnia.

I wondered repeatedly how Aslan could have let Narnia come to this. I wanted to know where Aslan was, why He had not come to help us. Lucy remained ever faithful that Aslan had a plan and it would all work out. She still maintained that she saw Him in the woods, even though she was the only one of us who did. I wanted to believe her, but if I did, that meant accepting _I_ had not seen Aslan. Accepting that would hurt – to me that would mean I was doing something wrong, that I was somehow unworthy to receive help from Aslan. So I didn't.

Finally we found a group of surviving Narnians who were being led, surprisingly enough, by a Telmarine prince, the heir to the throne. He was on the run from his murderous uncle, and promised the Narnians freedom and triumph over the ruling Telmarines. While he was a decent swordsman, he had yet to do anything to help the Narnians win back their land, so I didn't think much of him.

The uneasy, unsettled feeling continued to grow, but I determinedly pushed it away and refused to dwell on it. Instead I poured all my thoughts and energy into helping the Narnians. Ignoring the whispered doubts in the back of my mind, I would firmly tell myself that I had saved Narnia once before, so I could do it again. I had _decades_ of experience over the Telmarine prince, Caspian, even though it didn't appear so to him, so I dismissed his suggestions. Caspian wanted to be cautious and safe, always on the defensive, but I knew that we could not win without cleverness and risk. We simply didn't have the time to take it slow; we had to act swiftly or be crushed by the impending Telmarine army. With Aslan gone from Narnia, it was left up to me to save the Narnians.

Susan completely disagreed with practically every idea I came up with. It bothered me greatly not to have her support, and I couldn't figure out whether it was because Caspian opposed me, and she seemed to have a connection with him, or if she actually did just disagree with my ideas.

"You don't have to act like everything I come up with is completely ludicrous, you know." I snapped at her a couple of hours before the castle raid.

Susan sighed with irritation. "Your plans are not _ludicrous_, Peter. I just think you're going through with them for the wrong reasons."

"Wrong reasons? Helping the Narnians get their lives back and reclaim their country – those are wrong reasons?"

"Of course not." Susan replied hotly. A bit more gently she added, "It seems like you're doing this so you can become King again. You want your former glory back and you want to play 'hero' again. _Those_ are the wrong reasons."

I glared at her. "You're wrong." I said coldly.

"Keep in mind who _really_ defeated the White Witch," she admonished as she left the room.

I shook my head and continued with my preparations for the raid on the Telmarine castle. The raid was almost entirely my idea. It seemed like the perfect plan. The castle would be relatively empty of men, as most of the Telmarine army was marching its way to our stronghold here at Aslan's How. Of course Caspian disagreed with me, but as usual I dismissed his ideas and warnings. He was young, immature and inexperienced and I didn't have the time to waste humoring him.

In retrospect, I know that I should have listened to him. The raid started out well enough, but it went terribly downhill very fast. There were far more men in the castle then I had anticipated, and once the alarm bell sounded we no longer had the element of surprise. I had more then enough chances to retreat and spare many Narnian lives, but I didn't take them, determined as I was to see my plan through, determined to get to Miraz, determined to prove I had lead the Narnians properly, determined to triumph.

When I finally realized we were in serious danger of not making it out at all, and called for a retreat, it was too late. So many lives had been lost and we seemed to have accomplished nothing. Something I will never be able to forget, as long as I live, was the sight of the minotaur heroically holding up that gate and sacrificing himself as we all rushed to escape, until he was brutally shot down, the gate finally crashing down on him just as I had made it to safety. Trapped Narnians on the other side stood inches away from me, reaching through the bars, crying and pleading to me for help. I was _right there_, and totally helpless. I have never been so overcome, so defeated, and so _use__less_, in my entire life. Even now, I still have nightmares about that night.

One centaur looked me right in the eye and gave me a nod of understanding, as if to say he knew what had to be done, that he knew his final role in this battle had come, and he was going to take down as many Telmarines down with him as possible. A faun's outstretched hand grasped desperately at my shirt and I fought back hot tears.

"Don't leave us here," he begged in a whisper, just barely audible amongst the chaos, his wild and desperate eyes locked on my face.

The shameful and hopeless tears in my eyes reaching their breaking point. "I'm sorry," I whispered back, unable to convey the depth of the horror I was feeling.

I glanced back at the Narnians who'd made it out, and at Susan and Caspian. I could only see disappointment, deep sadness and the same helplessness that was consuming me, etched in their features. With great difficulty, I turned and rode away from the castle, and away from the Narnians who'd trusted me and followed me dutifully to their deaths.

It was my fault and _entirely_ my fault. _My_ failed plan, _my_ stubbornness, _my_ desperate need to prove myself. I know that now. However, I spent the journey back to Aslan's How brooding. First I grieved for those lost in battle; then, as my anger at the disaster grew, I tried to figure out what had gone so wrong with the plan, my _perfect_ plan, unconsciously casting about for someone, anyone, on whom the blame should lay for the catastrophic failure - except myself.

_Caspian_.

Fool-hardy, overemotional Caspian had strayed from the plan and gone after Miraz himself, instead of heading to the gate as he was supposed to do. The anger that had built up over the past year, which seemed to be such second nature to me now, flared intensely. It was _Caspian's_ fault those Narnians had died. His departure from the plan had caused our defeat. I blamed him for everything I could think of – even for the fact that Aslan was nowhere to be found, although that could hardly be _anyone's_ fault, let alone Caspian's. My anger multiplied, and upon reaching Aslan's How, I could take it no longer. Caspian was selfish, childish and foolish and I refused to let him help the Narnians any more. The problem, as I am now slowly beginning to realize, is that I am perhaps no better to lead them myself.

After a heated argument that ended after I clashed swords with Caspian, I retreated to a small, private part of Aslan's How where I settled down for a troubled nap. My body ached with fatigue but my mind would not stop whirling. Anger at Caspian, grief over the lost Narnians, shame that I had not retreated sooner - all these things filled my thoughts and disturbed my rest. Lucy tried to tell me she thought I had probably done the best I could have. Edmund couldn't quite bring himself to reassure me that I had done the right thing. Susan said nothing at all, but I could feel cold disappointment in her gaze whenever she looked at me.

I was startled out of my restless dozing to a sitting position by a terrible noise. I jumped up, sword instantly in hand and saw Edmund hurry past with his. We ran to the room that held the Stone Table where more the awful noise – a loud, evil growl – had come from. We burst into the torchlit room to find two of the most vile and frightening creatures I have ever beheld – they sent cold shocks of fear rocketing up and down my spine. The black dwarf, Nikabrik, was there as well, the usual greedy look on his face replaced by a startled one. However, worst and most horrible of all, was the presence of the White Witch, suspended like a ghost in a tall, glistening panel of ice. Caspian stood not too far in front of her, his eyes glassed over as he slowly extended a bloody hand to her.

Edmund and I flew into action. I screamed for Caspian to stop, but I had to fight one of the horrific creatures before I could get to him. For a few confusing seconds, myself, Nikabrik, Edmund, the two demonic creatures, Lucy, and Trumpkin were entangled in a fierce battle. Those seconds stretched far too long as Caspian's hand drew ever closer to the Witch's. Terror gripped me as I thought of what would happen if Caspian's hand made contact with the Witch's and I fought harder to get to him. Finally I broke away and shoved Caspian to the ground. I held my sword steady at the cursed Witch's icy features. She recoiled then instantly softened.

"Peter, dear," she said in a rich tone that made my stomach twist uncomfortably. "I've missed you."

I shook my head slightly, furiously trying to think of a way to make the Witch disappear. Could my sword penetrate the thick ice? Would it make a difference if it did?

The Witch carefully held her pale hand out to me. "Just one drop…"

I didn't move. I concentrated on everything she'd put us through, all the evil she represented, the terror she'd inflicted on the Narnians, what she had done to Edmund, tried to do to Aslan…

"You know you can't do this alone."

Her words hit me hard and reverberated through me. My sword wavered and fell just slightly. _But I am alone_. I thought.

_No, Peter, you're not._ Her voice spoke softly in my head, perfectly silky and soothing. _You don't have to be. I'm right here and I know what __it is __you've been through, how hard it was. I know how hard it continues to be._

I tried to shake her away, some part of me aware something was very wrong. But I didn't really try very hard, and she continued gently and persuasively talking in my head.

_You were all alone, Peter. You were dumped back in your home world, with no explanation, no direction… simply left to rot. __He used you for his purposes and then cast you aside, without so much as a thank you.__ Aslan never came for you and he still hasn't. No one believes in him anymore__,__ so why should you? How can he help you when he no longer seems to exist? I _do _exist, I _am_ here, I can help __you_ now, _Peter. Just one drop__, and we can do this together__. Together, we can triumph and save Narnia…_

I didn't even realize that I'd lowered my sword completely, nor that I had taken a step or two closer to the Witch. I didn't know I'd fallen into exactly the same trap I'd just saved Caspian from, and that I was mere inches from unleashing the kind of death and destruction that I had saved Narnia from once already. I was listening too closely to the calm, caring speech in my head that was voicing so many of my own thoughts.

Suddenly, the Witch stiffened and gave a piercing scream as the ice shattered. The chunks tumbled to the ground and became melting shards at my feet. I blinked and realized what had very nearly happened, what I had very nearly done. I looked up a little dazedly to see Edmund, his sword glistening with water, a grim expression on his face.

"I know," he said in a low, dark voice. "You had it sorted."

He, Lucy and Trumpkin exited the room. I turned to face Caspian, who was as shame-faced as I was, both of us humbled by the realization of the disaster we had nearly unleashed. I finally understood then – we were not so different from each other. We were fighting for the same cause, on the same side, for the same goal. I had no right to throw so much blame for the disastrous raid on him, especially when more than half the fault lay with me. We had both almost made the most terrible, catastrophic and costly mistake that could possibly be made.

I was no better than him, and he was no better than me.

After that, I'd settled on to the spot where I now sit. I have been here for hours, long after Caspian left me to my tortured thoughts, long after the Witch's ice completely melted away. My thoughts drive around in endless circles as I continue to stare at the carving of Aslan, silently asking for help, for a sign, for a hint, for _something_. I just wish I knew what Aslan's plan is, what my part is. Last time, Aslan showed us the way and lead us to victory.

_Aslan, where are you?_

As if those thoughts aren't enough, there is the fear and darkness that has been growing inside of me more and more with each passing day. For an entire year I was stuck in England, struggling and angry, and I felt so apart, so different. Now I'm back in Narnia where I was sure I belonged and I feel unsettled, off-kilter, apart and different. I fear I no longer belong anywhere, that I never will be able to belong anywhere.

And I am desperately afraid of failing. Failing Narnia, failing Aslan, failing my siblings, and failing myself. What if I can't give the Narnians back their country? What if we are defeated by the Telmarines? What should happen then? What if I die in battle? What will happen then?

Somehow, I have to push on and be strong. I've got to find a way to make it through. Somehow, I have to fight to win no matter what, I have to prove to myself I can still do this, that I _do_ belong here. I have to trust in Aslan, trust that he has a plan that I can't see, that no matter what happens, for good or bad, it'll all work out in the end.  
I blink against the sudden extra moisture in my eyes. I just wish I knew what to do.

Because it's impossible for me to do this on my own.

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**A/n: **Thanks for reading! Reviews are like oxygen. Also, I would just like to plug this brilliant Peter story I read recently, called "Awake" by IrishSongBird. Defs read it, it's so worth it. Part 3 hopefully soon (and by soon I mean like February or March). Thanks again for reading.


	3. Part III

**A/n: **Well, this actually came way quicker than I initially anticipated, so yay! I struggled some with this chapter, and it ended up being significantly longer than intended, but there was nothing I felt I could cut out. This is the final chapter of this story, so thank you to everyone who read and reviewed, I appreciate every single one of you immensely. :) Thanks once again to the wonderful moony's number 1 for beta-ing this. (Please be sure to read the Author's Note at the end of this chapter. Thanks.)

**Warning**: Contains heavy spoilers for _Prince Caspian_, and a bit of violence.

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**I, Peter – Part 3**

It is impossible that it has come to this.

Standing beside Susan, my eyes gaze out at all the faces of the Telmarines gathered. A warm breeze blows by, slightly ruffling my hair. Aslan turns his large golden head towards us and gives us the subtlest of nods.

It's time to leave.

_To leave Narnia._ The idea still seems somehow incredibly right and yet incredibly foreign at the same time. Just a short time ago, I would have given anything to come back to Narnia and never leave. I wanted to get the Golden Age back, I wanted a sword in my hand and a crown on my head. I, as always, wanted to be the hero again. I got none of those things and yet I am completely alright with that. I know this is the way it is supposed to be.

I think the point where I began to slowly understand was after the ordeal with the Witch in Aslan's How. That's when I finally got it through my thick skull that I couldn't do this by myself. I sat there in the How with the Stone Table at my back for hours, desperately seeking a sign from Aslan about what to do next. I was completely and totally humbled by my back to back catastrophic failures: the castle raid and nearly unleashing the White Witch.

No sign came.

I beat myself up about failing so terribly. It's not something as petty as hating to lose, though I will admit that was part of my despair. I had failed Narnia. My siblings and I were summoned back to Narnia to help them win an impossible war, and what had I done? Killed hundreds when we didn't have hundreds to spare. My hot-headed, glory-seeking ways had killed _hundreds_. More important than failing myself or Narnia, was that I had failed Aslan. I had stopped believing, I didn't seek him out, I dismissed Lucy's claims of seeing him and needing him, I shut him out.

That was really what it boiled down to. I had lost, I was miserable, and I had tried to do it all.

Edmund found me and warned me that the Telmarines were here. I woodenly rose to my feet, my heart heavy in my chest, and joined him and many others in another room of the How where we plotted our next move. The debate went on for quite some time about how to deal with the Telmarine army. Everyone turned to me.

During much of the debate, a shred of hope had been forming in my mind. It was risky, but not stupidly risky as the raid had turned out to be. I turned to Lucy and her wide, blue eyes stared back.

"Lucy, the other day you told me you had a dream about going to see Aslan," I said.

She nodded, understanding slowly lighting her face.

"Could you find him?"

From there, more debate ensued. Some disagreed with the idea of sending Lucy out alone, some thought it was foolish to be putting so much value on a mere dream and others still believed that Aslan didn't exist so it was completely pointless to send Lucy to seek him out. Once Lucy passionately agreed to go on such a mission, however, neither her or I could be swayed.

"We've got to try." I said with determination. "We cannot win without him."

That stopped them. It wasn't exactly a morale booster, but my mistake in the past was to fight for me and do it my way. It was definitely time to begin believing in Aslan again and have faith that he knew what he was doing.

Susan decided to go with Lucy for protection. To buy them time to find Aslan, Caspian had an idea. He looked to me, as if silently asking permission to present it. Previously, I would not have given it, talked over him or shot him down. This time, I took a step aside and bowed my head slightly, indicating he no longer needed my permission. We were equal, we were in this together and I wanted any help I could get.

Caspian explained that as King, Miraz was bound by the expectations and traditions of his people. We could propose a one-on-one battle with Miraz, who Caspian was sure would be too arrogant to refuse. If he did refuse, well, then it was at least worth a try.

"I can fight him." Caspian offered. "Then you are free to lead the people."

I shook my head. "Thank you, but _you_ need to be free to lead the people. You're the official heir to the throne. If we lose to Miraz in this one-on-one battle, we still need you to win and take the throne for Narnia."

Caspian wanted to protest, but couldn't argue with my logic. He put his hand on my shoulder. "Are you sure?"

I clenched and unclenched my jaw briefly. "I'm not sure of anything anymore." I answered honestly. "We have to give Lucy and Susan as much time as possible. Of that, I'm sure."

Caspian nodded.

After that, we sent Edmund and a few Narnians into Miraz's camp with an official letter proposing the duel. It didn't take long and he was back before midday with news of Miraz's response, laughing at the king's injured pride.

"He accepts." said Edmund.

I swallowed. I'd been both hoping for and dreading that answer. This duel would definitely buy Susan and Lucy time, but how much was another matter. I was a fairly skilled swordsman to be sure, but what if Miraz was much better? I forced those fears from my mind and prepared myself to face him.

Edmund helped me with my armor. "You'll do alright, Pete," He assured in his quiet and confident way. "I think Miraz is a lot more bark than bite. And besides, he's _ancient_."

"He's a tyrant and a warrior," I reasoned. "He's had to claw his way to the top – "

"Using trickery and underhanded deeds." Edmund finished.

"Still. I cannot underestimate him."

All my armor on, Edmund left me to my thoughts. I stared at my tunic, the golden image of a lion stitched upon its front. I felt emotion constrict my throat.

_Help me, Aslan._ I pleaded silently. _We need you. I need you. I… I'm not ready to die._

Just a short time later, it was time. Time to try and save Narnia once again. As I walked towards a pile of ruins in front of the How where Miraz and I were to battle, I thought about everything I had been through. I wondered if it was all going to end today, if I had any chance of beating Miraz, if Lucy would find Aslan in time.

I made it to the ruins with Edmund at my side. My heart was hammering in my chest and adrenaline coursed through my veins. I saw Miraz on the other side of our relatively small battle ground, talking in low tones to the men he'd brought with him. The sight of him immediately caused a flood of unpleasant memories to rush through me. The image of him cruelly shoving the Minotaur off his balcony stood forth in my mind most clearly.

Anger welled up inside me slowly, building like a large fire. The anger that had been so close to the surface for the past year, the anger I had been working to suppress and work through, the anger I needed as fuel for the coming duel with Miraz.

I put on my helmet and so did Miraz.

"There's still time to surrender." Miraz sneered through his gold mask-like face shield.

I circled slowly towards him. "Well feel free."

"How many more must die for the throne?"

As if he really cared or didn't have a hand in most of those deaths. I boiled at his words. _He_ of all people was saying that? The man who murdered his own brother and tried to murder his nephew for the right to be king? The man who helped with the extinction of the Narnians? Commanded the drowning of Trumpkin? Ordered the arrows down upon everyone in the courtyard of the castle raid – including his own men?

"Just… _one_." I put my visor down and attacked.

It had begun.

I got a few good hits in but so did Miraz. He was definitely a match for me, if not more. I slashed at his back and he swung around with his shield to smash me in the face, knocking my helmet off. I saw stars but shook them away. I didn't have a second to recover or be stunned or I'd be done. His blade came a little too close to my neck and I retaliated desperately by taking a sharp swing at his leg. I made contact but the cut wasn't terribly deep.

We fought on. I lost my footing which Miraz took immediate advantage of. In the instant my back was on the ground, Miraz slammed his foot down on my shield. My arm, already at an awkward angle, pulled and bent the wrong way and I couldn't stop the cry of pain that escaped my lips.

I swung frantically at Miraz and after a few more swings from both of us, I managed to make Miraz fall while I stood up. As we both struggled to fully regain our footing and composure, I saw Caspian riding towards us with Susan on the back of his horse.

My breath hitched. Where was Lucy?

"Does his Highness need a respite?" Miraz hissed.

I didn't want to appear weak, and even less for Miraz to attack me while I was attempting to take a rest. I watched him carefully.

"F-five minutes?" I winced involuntarily, trying not to let on how badly my shoulder was hurting.

"Three!" Miraz growled.

A small wave of relief washed over me; I had a moment to catch my breath. I backed slowly towards Edmund, pain radiating all over me. Miraz just as cautiously and suspiciously backed towards his own men. When I decided I was far enough away from Miraz for him to be unable to try and take me by surprise, I dropped my guard and limped to Edmund. He hurried to help me.

To Susan and Caspian, I said urgently, "Lucy?"

Susan assured me Lucy was still on her way, thanks to Caspian. I thanked him and then instructed Susan to join the other archers. I doubted that, if I somehow won, the Telmarines would actually surrender, as was a condition of my agreement with Miraz.

The part I left unsaid was that if I lost, the Telmarines would attack as they originally planned. Susan must have guessed my thoughts, however, as she abruptly hugged me tight.

My shoulder screamed in pain and I pulled away from her with a gasp. She apologized and looked me directly in the eye.

"Be careful." She whispered.

I clenched my jaw. I didn't want this to be the last time I ever saw Susan, but with the way I was injured and how Miraz was fighting, I knew it very well could be. All it took was a strong enough hit, and I was finished. I had so many things I wanted to say to Susan as I looked at her, but none would come out of my mouth. Though she may have suspected my dark thoughts of failure and death, I didn't want to confirm them. Hope was an extremely precious commodity and I needed her to be sure I could win this, even if_ I_ wasn't.

As Susan hurried to join the archers, Edmund murmured that I needed to "keep smiling." I quickly pasted a grin on my face and lifted my sword with my good arm towards the Narnians, who cheered. Again, I didn't want the Narnians to know how difficult this battle really was for me.

Caspian carefully removed my shield so Edmund could look over my injured arm. I cried out as he explored the joint, figuring that my shoulder had been dislocated when Miraz stomped on my shield. I tried to ignore the pain, but it was extremely difficult, as Edmund tended to my arm. I gritted my teeth and stared ahead at Miraz, who was getting his thigh bandaged.

Of all things to think of in that moment, England suddenly sprang into my mind. I thought about life there, about what life had been like for me, however meaningless it seemed. I thought about Mom, Edmund, Susan and Lucy. I thought about how I could likely die very, very soon.

I wasn't scared. Well, not as scared as one would expect. I had fought many battles and had been severely injured before; many times I had been close to death or against seemingly impossible odds. But this was somehow different, more final. The hunger and rage in Miraz's eyes was something I had never really seen before. It was deep and frightening. I was weary, I was alone, and now injured enough that I was going to have a lot of trouble defending myself after this respite. I figured Miraz would take me quickly, if the close calls during our battle had been any indication. Truthfully, I had been doing well enough so far and it wasn't that Miraz was stronger than me or more experienced. On the whole, we were relatively evenly matched. Still, I could shake the feeling I wasn't going to come out of this duel alive.

"What do you think happens back home," I said somberly, speaking part of my thoughts aloud, "if you die here?"

Edmund looked at me strangely. I could see a little fear creep into his eyes at my words. _Don't you dare…_ They said.

Looking back at him, emotion clogged my throat. Ed and I had been through _so_ much together. We always helped each other before, especially after the major battles. He had been so crucial to my strategy in countless battles, like when I fought Rabadash back during the Golden Age. Ed was the one who was more logical, more calculating, focusing on defense rather than offense, and judging more fairly than anyone I knew. Like Susan, I feared this was going to be the last time I ever saw him. Unlike with Susan, I _had_ to say the things swirling in my mind before it was too late. He was standing right here and could see the acceptance of death in my eyes and he _had_ to know my thoughts.

"You know, you've always been there," I swallowed against the lump in my throat. "I never really – "

Edmund snapped my shoulder back into its socket.

I cried out at the sharp burst of pain and blinked hard, trying to hold back tears. As I tried to catch my breath, Edmund grabbed my sword from the ground, holding it out to me.

"Save it for later." He mumbled firmly.

I heard exactly what he didn't say: _Don't you dare talk like that. Get up and beat this __prick__._

Miraz stood shakily and so did I. Edmund handed me my sword, and Caspian gave me my shield. I shook my head as Edmund offered me my helmet; it was too cumbersome, and I couldn't see well enough with it on. I saw Miraz refuse his too, and I couldn't help a tiny half-smile. Miraz's pride wouldn't allow him to not be equal with me. If I was 'too tough' for a helmet, so was he.

Without further preamble the duel resumed, somehow fiercer than before. It now really became a desperate battle to the death. Swords clanged and we threw each other about, dodging swings and throwing punches with our shields. He cracked me in the face with his shield, I slammed him with my sword. We were both still injured, in a lot of pain and getting more and more desperate.

At one point, I found an opening and managed to punch Miraz's wound on his leg hard with my armored fist. Gasping in pain, Miraz crumpled to the ground clutching his bandaged thigh.

"Respite!" He wheezed. "_Respite_!"

From the sideline, I heard Edmund shout, "Now's not the time for chivalry, Peter!"

I wanted to finish this, I wanted to end it. Badly. But I held back. Miraz was the murderer and the animal, not me. I started to walk away, certain Miraz realized he'd been beaten, when Edmund warned me to turn around, not a second too late.

Miraz swung his sword at me madly and I jumped away, his blade narrowly missing me. Shieldless and swordless, I wrestled his sword away from him, whirling around, using my momentum to point the sword into his flesh. Miraz choked, gasping as his own sword plunged deep into his stomach, sinking to his knees as it slid back out.

Miraz tried to goad me into finishing him, but I refused. Instead, I offered Caspian the sword, giving him the chance to avenge his father's death. After a few tense moments, Caspian surprised many by sparing Miraz. Demonstrating incredible honor and courage, Caspian walked away.

As Miraz was being helped to his feet by one of his men, the man suddenly stabbed Miraz with an arrow of Susan's, killing him, shouting that it was us who had broken the deal. Then all hell broke loose, and the Telmarines attacked.

In numbers, the Telmarines had us beat ten times over. But we had a few tricks up our sleeve, vying for an advantage. We caused a massive cave-in in the middle of the battlefield, killing hundreds of Telmarines; we sent griffins out to drop rocks on the Telmarine army, and our archers sent waves of arrows raining down on them. Even so, the battle began to tip in favor of the Telmarines. Sheer numbers and brute force as well as catapults created crippling odds to fight against. Some of the boulders they launched at us hit exactly the wrong spots on the How, causing the entrance to collapse in a pile of rubble. We were cut off from our only possible refuge; unless Lucy showed up with Aslan, we were doomed.

It felt like we were only prolonging the inevitable as we continued to fight. I was already wounded and battle-weary from the duel, and now I had to fight for my life all over again; I fought for Aslan and Narnia a hundred thousand times over as I moved across the grassy battle ground, clashing with Telmarines. Adrenaline gave me energy, hope for Aslan's imminent aid gave me drive, and my love for Narnia and its people gave me strength to carry on. Still, it could not last forever, and I could feel myself slowly tiring. A few Telmarine blades came a little closer than I liked, and it seemed like there was no end in sight.

Then, all at once, Telmarines began to retreat, Narnians chasing after them and _trees walking past._ It was something that would have alarmed most – Caspian was stuck between awestruck wonder and terror as I helped him out of the pit caused by our cave-in – but I grinned, my entire body sagging in relief, my chest heaving.

_Aslan._

The battle was over shortly after that. Aslan caused a river spirit to rise up, destroying the Telmarine bridge as well as a good chunk of their army. The rest surrendered quite willingly upon witnessing the sight.

Seeing Aslan again was wondrous, humbling, terrifying and amazing, all at once. I wanted to laugh and cry, fall to my knees and jump up and down. He had come. He had saved us, once again.

At the Telmarine castle a day later, Caspian was crowned King, and the whole of Narnia was working towards a state of peace for both the Telmarines and the Narnians. Aslan had instructed that every citizen gather in the main square outside the castle, the purpose of which he withheld for the time being. Prior to attending the gathering, however, Aslan pulled me aside for a private word.

It was very difficult to hear what Aslan had to say. He spoke to me about the year I'd spent in England, about the first time I'd been in Narnia, about the Golden Age and about my time in Narnia this time around. It was a long conversation that would take too long to detail, but by the end of it, I surprised myself at how much I truly understood.

Aslan explained that I had learned courage and bravery during my time in Narnia.

"You grew up quickly, learned how to lead a nation and lead it well." He said. "You learned much about pride, betrayal, anger."

I winced when He said "anger," thinking of all the fights I'd started with other boys back in England, all the terrible things I thought about Aslan for leaving me there. Oh, I had learned about anger alright.

"I never left you, you know." Aslan stated sadly. I looked at His deep, golden-brown eyes. "I never abandoned you. _You_ abandoned _me_."

My eyes welled up with hot, shameful tears.

"You stopped believing."

"I know that now." I whispered.

"I know you do." Aslan smiled warmly. After a moment of comfortable silence where I wiped my eyes repeatedly, He continued, "You have learned loyalty, joy, despair, patience, how to listen, and how to guide without being misguided yourself. You have truly learned the value of life, you have tasted both sweet victory and bitter defeat."

_Defeat_. My mind jumped to the castle raid and my heart ached at the painful memory, tears springing to my eyes again.

"Most important of all, dear Peter, is that you have learned how to be humble. You understand how to learn from your mistakes, and you have learned how to have _faith_. To never stop believing."

Tears streamed down my face.

Aslan showed me how my journey through Narnia had taught me all of this. I still had so many things to learn, but not in Narnia. It was hardest to hear that I would never be returning to this magnificent and glorious place, but somehow, I understood. And the parts I didn't understand, I didn't question anymore. I finally had the faith I'd been lacking – the kind I had always envied Lucy for having – and I was ready accept whatever Aslan's plan would be.

Leaving me to my thoughts, Aslan had a long private talk with Susan as well before speaking to us both together. Susan took the idea of leaving Narnia for good just as hard, or perhaps even harder, than I had. It was very apparent that she and Caspian had feelings for each other, so the idea of never seeing him again had to be an especially terrible one to swallow.

So now, it has come to this moment. Standing beside Susan, across from Aslan, looking out over the sea of Telmarine faces. Aslan has already sent a few Telmarines through a gap in a twisted tree, sending them back to our world. It is our turn.

I say that we will go and both Lucy and Edmund are dismayed to hear that Susan and I are not going to come back to Narnia. I feel sad that they don't understand why, but know they will in time.

We say our emotional goodbyes and walk towards the gap in the tree, the barrier between our world and Narnia. I glance back one more time to see Aslan's warm reassuring smile.

_I'll come back, when you call me…_

It is impossible that it has come to this, after all that I've been through. Yet I know beyond a shadow of a doubt, as my feet touch the stone of the England train station we left so long ago, that this is the way it is meant to be and everything will be alright.

**-end-

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A/n:** Thanks so much for reading. If you have a moment, I have recently been nominated in the Narnia FanFiction Revolution Awards, and I would love any support I can get. Please take a sec to vote for me and this story here: _http:// narniafanfiction . wufoo. com/forms/2008-revolution-awards/_ (remove the spaces). There's also a link in my profile. Thanks in advance, and reviews are of course immensely appreciated as well. You all rock.

_(Side Note_: I honestly don't know why Susan and Peter have to leave Narnia, thus my struggle with this chapter. I hope what I came up with is plausible/understandable and if any one knows C.S. Lewis' solid reason why, for heaven's sake tell me, haha! Also, that line: "I'll come back when you call me" is from the song they play at the very end of Narnia.)


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